The Animator
by Inuluvr
Summary: The Assassin's numbers are dwindling, and it's only a matter of time before the templars find and murder them. Yet, there are jobs to be done, and only an adaptation of the Animus seems to be the solution: The Animator. M for language and blood
1. Chapter 1

**If you are confused about this update, please go to my profile and read the note I've left. Thank you!**

Ezio crouched, leaning over the edge. He watched the townspeople bustling about through the busy street below. He watched every movement closely— examined every pace, every hand gesture. It was somewhere. He knew it had to be. His eyes darted from person to person, searching. Searching for his target. A group of guards passed slowly: the evening patrol on their first round through the city. Ezio's eyes narrowed as he watched them disappear into the distance.

The shadows were growing long, and the constant hum of the town's chatter began to fade with the light. The street traffic was thinning as children were called home by worried mothers, and the working men returned to their nest after a long day of labor. It was soon. His target would emerge soon. All he had to do was wait in the shadows, lurk in the dark until his time came. Patience was the key to this type of work; so is the life of an assassin.

The sun had now sunken far below the city's horizon and a cold air had settled over the empty streets. Silence, save a few drunkards' shouts now and then, pervaded the abandoned alleys. Ezio turned his head as he heard a soft, but recognizable sound: footsteps. He could see a lone figure striding meaningfully, but cautiously down the alleyway. The footsteps echoed off the stone buildings as the figure drew near, and Ezio felt a small smile pass his lips.

His target had arrived.

The thrill of adrenaline rushed through him as he recognized Enrico Moretti, a local corrupt politician and high clergyman of Venice. Ezio could feel his hot blood surging through his veins: the hunt was on.

Ezio slipped into the shadows of the moonlight, silently stalking his target, matching his steps on the rooftop above. A slight rumble and shake distracted him briefly, but he ignored it and leapt quietly from the shingled roof. He landed lightly on his feet, crouching behind a stack of boxes as his target turned to investigate the noise behind him. He stood for a moment, staring down the empty alley behind him, but seeing nothing, turned and continued on his way.

Quickly and stealthily, Ezio followed in his soon-to-be victim's footsteps, his whole body tense with excitement. It wasn't that he liked to kill; in fact, he truly didn't enjoy knowing that he took the lives of so many. It was the concentration and thrill of adventure that excited him during the assassinations.

The cold steel of Ezio's hidden blade glinted in the moonlight as it slid from its hidden sheath. Ezio tensed, readying himself to strike. His fingers twitched with excitement as he closed in on his target. His pace quickened. And suddenly he was at full speed, dashing at his target and tensing his legs to push off from the ground—

The ground beneath him rumbled again and something hit him over the head. Hard. He staggered backwards, trying to regain his balance as his target shouted for the guards. The rumbling started again, violently shaking the streets beneath his feet. He toppled to the ground as the guards closed in around him—he seemed to be the only one affected by this quaking. He scrambled to his feet in time to be stabbed by a guard's pike. He stood, looking down at the pike protruding crudely from his chest. He staggered backwards and coughed blood over his white garb. With a loud yell, Ezio toppled to the ground as the guard pulled the pike out of him. He struggled to his hands and knees, more blood spurting out of his mouth as he moved. The guards stood in a circle around him, watching his struggle. They had him, and they knew it. He was losing blood quickly and he was beginning to black out. In a final attempt to escape, he stood and clumsily tried to run to the safety of the shadows. An archer's arrow pierced his back, and he let out a grunt as he fell to the ground. He had no energy left. He lay listless and bloody on the cold cobblestones of the alley. Everything around him was going white… Everything was fading…

Desmond started awake as another book fell from the shelf, landing squarely on his face.

"'The fuck?" He rubbed his bleary eyes as the truck rumbled turbulently, bouncing roughly and knocking various items inside to the floor. "Are we going over a rock quarry or something?"

"Sorry Desmond, this path is treacherous in parts. You can go back in the Animus if you'd like—I'll make sure no more books fly at you." Rebecca smiled mischievously as she turned back to her desk, pulling a paperweight out of the drawer.

When Desmond had first stepped into the back of the truck in their quick escape, he'd been surprised. It was the first time he'd ever seen a commercial transport truck converted into a small study. There were bookcases that lined one side of the truck with a single desk in the far corner. Directly across from it, they had laid the Animus down for Desmond to use to pass the time of the trip. The rest of the space was occupied by three cots, a fridge, and a small table barely big enough to fit four. Though not particularly bright, the small lamp on the desk provided enough dim light to see the entire truck's layout.

"Nah, I've had enough weapons lodged into my body for one day, thanks." Desmond sat up, swinging his legs over the edge. "Where's Shaun?"

"Over here, Desmond." The snarky Brit was lying on his bed, his laptop on his stomach, and several notes in his hand. "I'm still doing research for Subject 16's video, and I haven't come up with anything lucrative yet." Shaun returned to his research, his laptop's keyboard clicking as he typed.

Desmond stood up and stretched, yawning. "So it's still Lucy's shift?" Rebecca glanced at her watch. "Yeah, Shaun or I'll relieve her in about an hour or so, if we haven't already gotten to the hideout… it's been about six hours since the last shift change, and if I've gauged it right, we've only got about another two hours to go."

Desmond nodded as Rebecca turned back to her sketch on the desk. It looked like an engineering design, but he couldn't tell what exactly it was. "Hey," Desmond nodded at the paper. "What's that?"

Rebecca looked up at Desmond, a mysterious smile forming on her lips. "A new design." Desmond cocked his head to the side, sliding off the Animus to get a closer look. "Yeah? A new design for what? Animus 3.0?"

Rebecca laughed. "I could never replace my baby! Sorry Desmond, you'll just have to deal with 2.0 while you're with us." Desmond smiled, then asked again what the design was for.

"A new idea. Something that I haven't had the chance to work on since I last left safety." She paused, pulling out several more sheets from the drawers. "We've been losing a lot of assassins, Desmond. At this point we only have 10 groups left. Seven, if you're only counting the ones we _know_ are alive at this point. That's only 28 assassins left." Desmond leaned against the wall, bracing himself against the truck's tremors.

"So I came up with an idea," Rebecca continued. "Something that will help us regain our numbers—or at least… temporarily." She smiled, a glint of excitement in her eye. "How would you like to meet Ezio and Altair in person?" Desmond tried to hide a cynical smile, and bit back a sarcastic reply.

"You're going to make a time machine?" A small smile escaped his lips as he asked. Rebecca frowned. "No. Time machines are only fiction. No, I'm going to do something much more complex than that. Desmond, the design you're looking at right now is the very first design for the Animator."

Hey!

You don't know how good it is to be back and writing again, guys. I've been feeling really down, and writing really does help me relieve stress. Not to mention how much I missed you all! I know this probably won't be the same group of readers, since I used to write Naruto, but I hope at least some of my old readers will read this! Thanks for the support, and I'll update more later… for right now, I'm going to bed. (I'm sick and have school tomorrow… so yeah. XP)

Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

"So what you're telling me, is that I will be fighting alongside my ancestors? All three of us, in one room?" Desmond stared at Rebecca, half expecting her to burst out laughing and reveal it as a joke. She was smiling, yes, but it was the smile of excitement rather than one of jest.

"Yes! Isn't it awesome? Just think: you, fighting off Templars, getting pinned to the ground with no hope of escape, then BAM! Altair's stabbed your enemy in the back, or Ezio's shot him with his pistol. Sure, it may not be as romantic as that but hey, it could happen."

"Rebecca, are you sure you're not confusing one of your poorly written fantasy books that you read so often with real life?" Shaun raised his head just so they could only see the reflection of the computer screen on his glasses. Even with his eyes covered, however, Desmond could hear the facetiousness in his voice and see him quickly hide a smug smile. _Jackass._ Desmond thought.

Rebecca rolled her eyes, "I said it wouldn't be as romantic. Also, my books are scifi, not fantasy. If I remember correctly, you were the one who likes to read the romance: women locked away, waiting for their men in shining armor. Wasn't that the reason you joined the assassins? Hoping to find your damsel in distress?" Rebecca smiled at Desmond to show him she didn't mind Shaun's mean comments. Shaun mumbled something from behind his computer screen then shifted to face away from them. Desmond suppressed a smile. He was such a child sometimes. He turned back to Rebecca.

"So how are you going to make this work?" He studied the blueprints, but the scribbled numbers and drawings meant nothing to him. Rebecca yawned and leaned back in her chair, looking up at Desmond. "I'll explain it to you when we get there. I should really relieve Lucy now." She stood and stretched, yawning again as she picked up the walkie-talkie and called Lucy. "Hey Luce, pull over and I'll take the wheel for you." A quiet 'thanks' crackled over the radio before the truck began to slow. Rebecca patted Desmond on the back and opened the doors to the back of the truck. "See ya in a bit!" She hopped out into the darkness of the night, disappearing from sight.

Moments later, an exhausted looking Lucy appeared in the truck light. She looked up and hoisted herself into the truck, taking Desmond's hand for support. She muttered a thanks and looked into Desmond's eyes. "How're you doing? Please tell me you've been taking a break from the animus." Desmond nodded and put his hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about me, Lucy. You look exhausted. Go and lay down." She nodded and started to walk off, letting Desmond's hand slip from her shoulder. She paused for a moment and looked back at Desmond. "You…. You haven't had any more hallucinations, have you?" Desmond shook his head. "No, nothing. Please, don't worry about me. The bleeding effect isn't that bad."

Lucy walked over to her bed without a word, laying down and closing her eyes. _The bleeding effect isn't that bad._ The words rung in her head and rattled her brain; the same line repeating over and over again in her head. _The bleeding effect isn't that bad at all. _But it wasn't Desmond saying it. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned to the truck wall, hoping Desmond hadn't seen the sudden tears. She had to be strong; for his sake, and for hers. But as she drifted into a deep sleep, she could feel the hot tears streak down her face and patter onto her pillow. She had to be strong, but it was so hard knowing what was to come.

It was around midnight when the van pulled into the small villa of Monteriggioni. Rebecca parked the car outside the villa's walls, suggesting that they move their equipment into the basement of the manor. The four assassins worked quickly and quietly in the shadows, setting up a make-shift office to work in. As Lucy, Shaun, and Desmond settled into their new shelter, Rebecca hid the van in the nearby woods. It wasn't the best hiding place, but it was the best one she could find in such a remote part of the country.

When they all reunited in the basement, Rebecca unpacked the computers, presenting one to Desmond. "To stay in the loop," she said, smiling. After a few hours, they had all set up their own sections in the large room, Desmond choosing to sit close to the statue of his ancestor. What would it be like to meet him? Would he be proud to know that his bloodline had been continued, or would he be shamed to know Desmond was his only descendent? Desmond mused over this for several minutes, playing their meeting through his mind. What would he say to him? 'Hi, I'm Desmond, your great, great, great, great grandson?' He imagined that wouldn't go too well. He was lost in his thoughts when Lucy walked over to his desk. He jumped when she put her hand on his shoulder.

"Why are you so jumpy?" An uneasy smile passed over Lucy's lips as Desmond composed himself.

"Heh, sorry. I zoned out for a minute." Lucy's face darkened with worry, and Desmond was quick to reassure her it was nothing. "Besides," He continued, standing up from his desk. "I'm just really tired. I haven't gotten much sleep lately, you know? None of us have." Lucy nodded in a agreement and motioned for Desmond to follow her. "We're all getting ready to find designated rooms and sleep. Let's head up to the bedrooms." They joined Shaun and Rebecca and all four of them made their way to the rooms. Desmond chose Ezio's old room. It was an odd feeling—being somewhere he knew so well, yet he'd never been before. Lucy walked with him up to the bedroom door. As Desmond reached for the doorknob, his vision blurred and everything around him darkened. As he opened the door, he saw Ezio standing beside the bed, treating a bloody gash in his stomach. Desmond winced and bent over in pain as he felt Ezio's wounds on his own body.

"Desmond? Desmond!" Desmond felt Lucy lead him to the bed, where the pain intensified. He was sitting exactly where Ezio had been sitting, and was now feeling exactly how Ezio had been feeling. He looked up to see Lucy, but found that his vision was too focused on what wasn't there. It was terrifying and fascinating at the same time. He saw a blurry movement and before he knew it, Caterina Sforza was beside him, bandaging his wounds. He felt her cool, delicate hands brushing his hot wound. He lifted his head and looked at her. "Thank you," he said pulling her head to his and locking lips with her. She pulled away after a moment and smiled warmly at him. "You've got to learn to be more careful, Ezio." She leaned into his body and he felt her warm body against hers. He leaned in for another kiss….

"Desmond!" Desmond felt his vision blur back to the present, and a woman standing in front of him, her hands grasped around his shoulders. He shook his head. "Caterina?" The woman lowered her head to his eye level. "Look here," She said in a stern voice, flashing a light in his eyes. Desmond covered his eyes, sensitive to the light. He rubbed his head then looked up at Lucy standing in front of him, panic filling her eyes. "Desmond. You have to stay in the present. You can't let the memories take over your mind. You have to learn to suppress them." As Desmond recovered for the next few minutes, he was shaking violently and sweating. Lucy stayed by his side until he had calmed down then left to get him something to drink. He sat wide-eyed on the bed breathing heavily.

She returned with a cold glass of water and a worried-looking Rebecca at her heels. Rebecca ran over to the shaken Desmond, her worried eyes searching his glazed ones. "Desmond! Lucy told me that you just flipped all of a sudden. Are you alright?" Desmond nodded his head and took the glass of water from Lucy, holding it against his burning forehead.

"Rebecca, can you leave us alone for a minute? I want to talk to Desmond really quickly. Go let Shaun know what's going on." Lucy looked at Rebecca, giving her a I'll-let-you-know look before turning her full focus on Desmond. When Rebecca left, she started. "Desmond…. I…. I don't even know where to begin. What happened?" Desmond shook his head and took a sip from the cup. He felt the cold water slip down his throat and slosh around in his nauseated stomach. "I was sitting here… I had a gash in my stomach and Caterina Sforza came into the room and started treating it." Lucy examined him closely. "You mean Ezio was sitting there. You're Desmond, not Ezio."

"No… it was me, I know I was." Desmond's blank eyes searched hers. "I felt everything , it was me." Lucy shook her head. "No, you have to shake this. You're Desmond. It's 2012. Your name is Desmond Miles. Stay with me here." Desmond closed his eyes and rubbed his head. "Yeah…" He said distantly. "Sorry Lucy." She stared hard at him. "Desmond. That's the farthest you've ever gone into the bleeding effect. You can't let it get to you." Desmond nodded, his attention slowly returning to the present. "It's so surreal," he said wistfully.

Lucy could see the signs, and it took every ounce of her energy to keep herself from panicking. He was following in the same path… showing the same signs, giving her that same distant, otherworldly look as she talked to him. It would only be a matter of time… but she wouldn't let it happen again. Not to Desmond; not to anyone else. She had seen it once, and once was enough. But how much time until it was irreversible? What if the effects were already permanent? She tried to shake those thoughts, but they kept worming their way back into her brain. She instructed the still-dazed Desmond to sleep and left the room to continue working. Both Shaun and Rebecca had already gone to bed, so Lucy was alone.

A few hours later, and the moon was just beginning to sink below the horizon. She cursed herself for staying up so late then started cleaning up her workspace before heading off to bed. As she made her way to her room, she paused by Desmond's door. She opened it and walked in quietly, relief washing over her as she saw his form sleeping soundly. She slipped away and stepped into her own room, sliding into the cot in the corner of the room. She closed her eyes for several minutes and began to drift off into sleep.

Her eyes snapped open as she heard screaming and yelling from Desmond's room. She sat in bed squeezing her eyes shut and hoping it would go away. Desmond was having another nightmare. She prayed it would end soon, but his yelling in pain continued for what seemed like forever. It ended with desperate sobs subsiding to nothingness as his nightmare ended in the bloody, torturous death of one of his ancestors—of him, in his dream. She could hear Rebecca's worried whispers, and Shaun comforting her in the hallway. Desmond never remembered anything the next day, but his nightmares were affecting everyone else. Rebecca was taking it extremely hard, since she was so kind-hearted and sensitive. Lucy was glad that Shaun was there to comfort her. Though he didn't show it on the outside, he cared a lot for Rebecca, and was the strong arm she needed to keep her going.

Lucy heard Shaun lead Rebecca back to bed, and turned on her side. She closed her eyes, willing herself to get some sleep. She would need to be up in several hours, and she needed all the sleep she could get. She began to drift off again, and welcomed the darkness of sleep as it swept over her.

The next morning, Desmond seemed to be himself. He didn't say anything about the previous night, and Lucy began to wonder if he even remembered his hallucination. She didn't bring it up, though, and both Rebecca and Shaun took the hint to remain silent as well. He went back into the Animus as usual, and all seemed to be going well.

As he stepped out to take a break, however, he was overcome by extreme nausea. He stumbled out of the room for a few moments while Shaun, Lucy and Rebecca exchanged looks as they heard him retching in a bush outside. Lucy and Rebecca stood up as Desmond came back in, coughing and gasping for breath. "Sorry…" He managed, before coughing again, more violently than before. Lucy stepped briskly to his side and led him up to his room. "Desmond, you should take a break. Go and sleep for a while." Desmond shook his head and tried to fight Lucy off.

"We have to get this done…. We don't have much time…" Lucy stood in front of him, blocking the way down to the main room and the Animus. "Time that will be wasted if you let yourself get too sick," She watched as the fight drained from Desmond's eyes. He looked up at her, sickly and worn, then stumbled into the room and headed to his bed. She looked after him, fidgeting with anxiousness and worry. When she stepped down into the basement again, Shaun and Rebecca were standing close to one another, apparently in a deep conversation.

"Lucy," Shaun said, turning to her. "Something has to be done. He can't keep going into the animus… If things continue as they have been…. Well, you know what will happen." Lucy nodded and sat down at the main table in the room. "What do you suggest?" She looked up inquisitively at Rebecca and Shaun.

"Well," Shaun said hesitantly, "I've been doing a bit of research, and I think I know where one PoE is, or more specifically, a temple where one likely is. I've already talked to the higher-ups about it, and they seem to think it'd be a good chance to get Desmond out of the Animus."

"What?" Lucy scoffed. "Send Desmond, an assassin-in-training who can barely hold his own in the Animus, on a mission to a dangerous temple probably crawling with Templars _by himself_? Oh, yes. I think that'd be a brilliant way to get him killed." Rebecca took this opportunity to talk.

"Think of it more as a training experience. And we wouldn't be sending him in alone." Lucy turned to Rebecca. "And who do you plan on sending?" For a moment, Rebecca remained silent. "Do you remember those blueprints I drew up last time we were in safety? I think it's time we put the Animator 1.0 to the test." Lucy stared at Rebecca.

"You can't be serious. You don't even know if it'll work. Plus, when are you going to have to time to build one? We're running low on time, and it's becoming a precious resource we have to use wisely." Rebecca shook her head in disagreement, "I can probably just modify the animus for the time being. Anyway, what other choice do we have?" It was Lucy's turn to be silent for a few moments.

"Fine," She resigned, "But we have to be careful. Only disaster will follow if this gets out of hand." Rebecca nodded solemnly, and walked over to her desk, carrying the blueprints over to the main table and spreading them out for Lucy and Shaun to see. "Let's get started."


	3. Chapter 3

When Desmond woke up, his vision was blurry and his head was splitting in pain. _So much for the bleeding effect not being that bad, _he thought to himself as he stumbled out of his bed. He staggered on his feet for a few moments as he gained his balance. He tripped several times, catching his balance on the nearest piece of furniture, trying to reach the door. When he finally made it to the door, he paused and leaned against the sturdy wood. He closed his eyes and breathed heavily as he gathered his thoughts and energy to make his way down to the basement. Hs body ached all over, as though he had been beaten the day before. As he rested, he searched his brain for memories of the previous day. _What was I _doing_ yesterday? Trying to lift a boat?_ He began to worry as he realized that he couldn't remember anything that had happened the day before. _I think I went into the Animus, but….. I don't remember that very clearly…_ He froze when he realized he didn't even know how he had gotten back into his bed…. Or when. For all he knew, he had been out cold for weeks.

Panic surging through him, he stumbled into the hallway and tripped down the stairs. He burst into the main room, scaring the other three half to death. "What day is it?" He blurted out, scanning the faces of a very surprised Lucy, Rebecca, and Shaun. Rebecca smiled as Lucy recovered her wits and Shaun simply glared at him. "Calm down, Desmond." Rebecca said, reclining on her chair and lifting her feet onto the desk. "You passed out yesterday. We're short on time, but not short enough to panic about an afternoon. Really, relax a little." Desmond rubbed his head in frustration. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I've been so out of it recently." He sat down on the stairs hanging his head. "I guess I'm just stressed." By this time Lucy had recovered from her fright.

"Stressed, and you've been spending way too much time in the Animus." Lucy eyed him carefully as he shook his head. "I'm still fine to go back in," he argued. "And we need to make up for lost time yesterday, so I'm willing to pull a double shift-" Lucy raised her hand to stop him. "You're not going back in for a while." Desmond opened his mouth to protest, but Lucy ignored him, continuing. "You haven't even noticed the change yet. You're in no shape to go back in there and keep messing with your brain. Instead, we've got something else that you'll need to do." Desmond glanced around the room. _Change?_ And then he noticed it. Or rather, _them._ Desmond stood and walked over to the two chairs set up in the middle of the room. These weren't Animuses. These were something entirely new. These were…. Desmond turned as Rebecca stood and patted him on the back. "These are babies two and three." She smiled as she fiddled with a few wires here and there. "Desmond, meet the Animators." Desmond's eyes were wide with amazement, looking at the technology of both Animators.

One was made from the seat of the Animus, while the other was a simple recliner chair attached to wires. "How did you get all this done in one night…" Desmond examined the Animators carefully. They were seemingly simple, but Desmond knew better than to be deceived. Each was a device with power, just like the Animus. He shivered when he thought of what might happen if the Templars got their hands on it. Rebecca's clear voice cut through Desmond's thoughts.

"Didn't take much. But, I do need your help with something. I need you to help me with the bodies." Desmond's eyes stretched as the word 'bodies' simply rolled off of Rebecca's tongue. She laughed at his expression and waved a hand in dismissal. "Not real bodies… not technically, at least. Come help me get them out of the van. I built them a while ago, but they've got the weight of actual human beings." Desmond nodded and followed Rebecca out of the room, glancing quickly at Lucy who had been watching him with worried eyes.

They stepped out into the cold brisk night, their breath curling steam in the frozen air. As they slipped through the city in the shadows of moonlight, Rebecca led the way to the gate and Desmond followed. When they reached the towering iron gate, Rebecca pulled out a few paper clips and began to pick the lock that closed the villa within the walls. Desmond stood and watched, leaning on the cold stone wall beside the iron bars. "So, Rebecca…" Rebecca raised her eyebrows and hmmed at him, struggling to keep five or six paperclips in her mouth. She cursed as the paperclip she fiddled with snapped, and she pulled another from her mouth.

"Lucy seems to be very anxious recently… is something going on I should know about? She seems obsessed with my health." Rebecca let a small smile pass over her lips as a satisfying click was followed by the padlock hitting the frozen ground with a heavy thud. She pulled the remaining paperclips out of her mouth and stuffed them in her pocket. "She does have reason to be worried, you know. You're hallucinating, you rarely sleep peacefully, and you had a terrible reaction with the Animus yesterday. Don't you think her anxiety is well-supported?" Desmond shook his head as they trudged through the open fields to the forest. "Well, yeah, but it doesn't seem to worry you or Shaun nearly as much." Rebecca smiled sadly and threw her hands behind her head. "That's because we know you're strong." She paused for a moment, then continued. "And we also haven't seen the disastrous effects of the Bleeding Effect first-hand. Only heard stories. Lucy on the other hand…. Well, let's just say that Lucy has had some serious issues after her forced labor in Abstergo. They did some horrible, horrible things, Desmond. You're lucky she got you out of there before you saw too much. Lucy, though…. She saw a lot of terrible things happen to people she cared about. And most of the time, she was the one forced to hurt them…." Rebecca trailed off as she reached to her belt and pulled out a flashlight. "Alright, the van is here somewhere… Aha!" Her flashlight reflected on the cold white steel of their getaway car, and Rebecca ran to it.

She opened the door and jumped into the vehicle, rummaging around through miscellaneous items in the back before motioning for Desmond to come closer. As she emerged from the doorway, she was dragging a limp form, blank in every aspect. Desmond stepped closer to help Rebecca. "Careful, Desmond, this guy's heavy." She hoisted the body with all her might, half-handing, half-throwing the body at Desmond. He caught it, amazed at the weight. It literally was a full-scale replica of the male human body, weight and all. "Rebecca, what are these?" He asked as Rebecca pulled another one from the car. "They're bodies." She replied simply, smiling as Desmond rolled his eyes. "Aw, c'mon Des, lighten up. They're full replicas of the human bodies, but the cool part is that they're ninety-five percent robots." Desmond blinked.

"What's the other five percent?"

"Fake skin." Rebecca replied playfully, hoisting the second body up and carrying it with the arms and legs dangling limply over her arms. Desmond examined the body he held. It was anatomically correct, with arms and legs that moved as though real tendons and muscles were inside. Were they some sort of medical dummies, Desmond wondered. "Where the hell did you even get these?"

"Never you mind, Desmond." She shifted the weight of the body she held; it was obviously uncomfortable for her to carry. "Anyway, I never got the chance to explain how the Animator works, so let me take the time now to do so." She closed the door and motioned for Desmond to follow her, starting back across the fields on the outskirts of the villa. "So basically, these bodies are machines without brains—without the master computer to run them. I'm going to use the saved memories you've relived in the Animus and download them to my main computer. I've already started to extract files on all the information I can get on Ezio and Altair. Think of each of them as their own folder. Inside the folder, there'll be files for language, personality, memories, physical appearance, and all that good stuff." Desmond nodded, intrigued, and Rebecca continued. "When I manage to extract all the files, I'll be downloading them onto two separate self-running programs on my computer. These programs will be used as the master brain for these dummies. They'll calculate the probability of actions and responses based on their personalities and what we've already seen them do in the Animus. Basically, they'll be running the whole show on auto-pilot. Physically, they'll project the image of Altair and Ezio as you saw them in the Animus, but with real materials. Ever heard of the 3-D printers they just started making? It's pretty much the same concept, but a little more advanced. The objects being 'printed' won't be plastic, it'll be the real deal. The facial print will actually be connected to the program, so Altair and Ezio will speak with natural lip movement and be able to show emotions. And of course, they'll retain all the memories and personality elements they had in their own time."

"Wow." Desmond managed. "That's incredible. But if Ezio spoke Italian and Altair spoke Arabic, and we speak English…" Rebecca nodded. "Already figured that one out, Des. You know how we managed to translate everything as it happened in the Animus? I can extract that translator from the Animus, modify it, then apply it to the dolls' programs. When I modify it, it'll work as a double translator. They'll hear everything spoken in their language, and we'll hear everything spoken in ours." Rebecca smiled, seemingly satisfied with her explanation. "Isn't technology wonderful?" She paused as she reached the gate, the broken padlock laying on the ground below. "Hmm… I guess they'll just assume that some kids snuck out at night."

When they returned to the main room, Desmond and Rebecca laid the bodies they held on the Animators. Rebecca began wiring the dolls up to her computer, and Shaun meandered over to get a better look. He watched Rebecca work diligently, before catching Desmond's eye. "Yeah? And what do you want, Desmond?" Desmond shrugged and looked down at the Animators. "What do you think of all of this?" Shaun crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, and Desmond prepared himself for a snide remark. "What do _I_ think of it, Desmond? What do _I_ think of it? What do you _think_ I think of it? I'm the first bloody historian who will be able to talk to one person from nine hundred years ago, and one person from five hundred years ago." Desmond shrugged, irritated with the snarky Brit. "Sor-ry" He said, raising his hands in defense. Rebecca turned to look back at them. "Are you two causing trouble again? C'mon, now." She smiled as Shaun shook his head and walked back over to his corner.

"By the way, where's Lucy?" Rebecca asked, sticking a wire in one of the dummy's arms like an IV. Shaun looked back at Rebecca, glancing quickly at Desmond. "She went out for a breath of fresh air." Desmond back at the door to the outside. She usually stood right outside the door, but he hadn't seen her. "Is she alright?" He asked Shaun. Shaun hesitated for a moment, then muttered something under his breath. "What was that?" Desmond asked, his voice raised in frustration. "I said I really don't know, Desmond."

Desmond felt his stomach knot as he heard Shaun say this; he had said it flatly, with a hint of worry in it. In all the time he had been with Shaun, Desmond had never heard the Brit stray from his normal sarcasm. He was beginning to wonder if something was seriously wrong. He looked at Rebecca, wondering what her reaction was. Her head was lowered and her eyes were dark, but she continued working, avoiding eye contact with Desmond. He opened his mouth to speak, but promptly shut it as Lucy walked in, holding her head. She looked at Desmond and smiled weakly, then settled down in her chair. She turned on her computer and began to type.

Desmond looked at her carefully. Her eyes were puffy as though she had been crying, and dark circles stood out in stark contrast to her otherwise blanched skin tone. She looked sickly, exhausted, and overworked. She glanced up as she noticed him staring at her. "Is there something you want, Desmond?" She asked, continuing to type on her computer.

"No… sorry. It's just… you don't look well, are you feeling ok?" She nodded. "Just a little tired," she answered flatly. "Rebecca, how's it coming?" Rebecca stood up, looking down at the dolls hooked up to the Animators. "I think they're ready," she said, stepping briskly over to her computer. "And looks like all the files have been extracted. All we need to do now is to hit download." She looked at Desmond and smiled. "You ready?" He nodded, watching as a click of a mouse led to a whirring of machinery working, carefully beginning to construct his ancestors before his eyes. He couldn't really tell what was happening, but it looked interesting enough. "How long do you think it'll take?" He asked, watching as Rebecca monitored the progress.

"A while," she said, kicking her feet up onto the desk and reclining in her chair. "I suggest you grab a book." Desmond smiled. "And what if I don't have a book?" He asked, catching a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Guess you'll have to wait!"

Hey guys!

I hope you enjoy the newest installment, please le me know what you think! I've been updating a lot recently, since my fandom has been renewed by Brotherhood, but I warn you, I have finals coming up the next few weeks, so I probably will not update as frequently. But I'm almost completely done the net chapter, so I hope to post it possibly tomorrow or the day after. Anyway, enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

Desmond watched in amazement as the two bodies formed before him. Every detail of his ancestors he had seen in the Animus… now lay before him on a glowing table. It was incredible… he had thought it never possible, but even seeing it before him, he found it hard to believe.

He cautiously reached his hand to test the tangibility, feeling almost a thrill as his fingers gingerly brushed the cotton cloth. The cloth was worn and tattered, but sturdy and well made. Slowly, as though his bloodline's instincts took control, he found his fingers tracing the hidden blade beneath the sleeve, reaching for the glinting steel of the blade.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Desmond quickly retracted his hand, turning to see Rebecca walk in. "From what I've seen of your two ancestors, either of them wake up to _you_ playing with _their_ toys, you'll be a goner." Desmond let a small smile pass his lips.

"Yeah, you're right." He turned, looking at her glowing monitor above. "Eighty-two percent complete, huh? When will they be ready?" Rebecca cocked her head to the side in thought.

"Everything from the Animus seems to have translated well into the Animator… so I think it should only be a few more hours until the upload is complete. Though… when they wake up will be another story."

"Then why should I be worried about them waking up and assassinating me on the spot?" He raised an eyebrow inquisitively, turning as Shaun entered

"I daresay that there's a risk of their premature awakening," Shaun answered. "This process is almost like a re-birth, if I may. Anything's possible, and the more reduction of risk the better."

"Know-it-all Brit." Shaun glared daggers at Desmond then turned to Rebecca.

"While we wait, why don't we—" His sentence was interrupted by a shift of movement on the Animator's surface. Ezio was beginning to stir.

"Oh, Christina…" Ezio shifted, a contented (and questionable) smile slipping over lips. Rebecca smiled, while the other two stood awkwardly.

"Well," Rebecca managed between soft giggles, "I never expected them to dream while they were being uploaded." She turned to look at the computer screen, and noticing something, stepped over to the computer's controls. Her smile faded. "Hmm… it seems something from his memory is corrupted. This isn't good. The corruption is messing with the upload- he isn't supposed to be moving around this much until he's completely uploaded. I need to figure out what memory he'll be missing, and how to keep him still before we can continue with this." She lifted her eyes from the screen to meet Desmond's. "Call Lucy, will you? I think she might be able to help me out. I'll put the upload on pause for a few."

Desmond nodded and walked off to the bedroom. He paused at her bedroom doorway, leaning on the frame and looking in at her resting form. She was sleeping more soundly than she had for a while, and he felt a pang of regret knowing he would have to wake her.

"Hey, Lucy." She rustled softly in her sleep and opened her eyes.

"Alex?" Her bleary eyes focused slowly on him, and he smiled teasingly.

"Alex? Try Desmond." Her eyes widened, then lowered to the ground as she blushed.

"Sorry, Desmond…I was still…. still dreaming…"

Desmond looked at her worriedly. "How're you feeling? It's been a while since you've slept longer than three hours straight." She sat up, holding her head. "Yeah… I feel a little more rested… is there something you need?"

"Something went wrong with the Animator… Ezio's beginning to wake up, and Rebecca says it seems like a memory is corrupted. She said you'd be able to help her." Lucy nodded and stood up, following Desmond out of the room.

When they entered the room, Rebecca was sitting at the computer. "Hey, Lucy. I think this problem might actually be helpful."

"Oh?" Lucy stepped over to the computer, hovering over Rebecca's shoulder.

"Yeah. Look at the sequence that's missing. If we leave this out…" Lucy scanned the monitor

".. The two of them will be less suspicious."

"Mind filling us in on what's going on?" Shaun glanced over the monitor, then gave Lucy and Rebecca inquisitive looks. Lucy stood up straight and walked over to the suspended screens.

"What's going on is that the file corrupted may work to our advantage. Desmond, what you didn't see was several years after Ezio killed his final target. Ezio's last stand. He managed to drag himself back to the ruins of Monteriggioni, and at the gates, he collapsed. It seems like Leonardo had been looking for him, stumbled across him, and took him to the main house. But it was too late. He had lost too much blood, and he passed away a few days after. However, it seems that since your DNA stops as soon as he created your bloodline, you missed re-living that memory, and the memory itself became corrupted when we tried to translate it to the Animator."

"Basically," Continued Rebecca, "If we leave this file—excuse me—memory corrupted, then Ezio will have no memory of dying. His last memory will be killing the Pope, and what immediately followed. Now, we should probably do this for Altair, too. He'd probably appreciate it." Desmond glanced back at his ancestors.

"So… will it take longer, then? Do we have enough time to spare?" Rebecca glanced over at the incomplete forms.

"Actually, by cutting out the last sequences of their lives… it'll actually shorten the time… I'd say… an hour more and they'll be done. But meanwhile, we have to make sure neither of them move too much. If the upload is interrupted, there could be some serious issues. But for right now, we should all take a break. Let me just delete these memories—there, done!"

Rebecca stepped away from the computer, telling the others to sit while she brought tea for everyone. When she returned, they all settled at the small table across the room. Desmond was finding it difficult to tear his eyes away from his ancestor's bodies, so he tried to distract himself. He glanced over at Lucy, who had spoken very little since they had sat down. Rebecca and Shaun chattered about computers, the Animator, and all the possibilities it could bring. They didn't seem to notice that neither Desmond nor Lucy spoke.

About ten minutes later, Shaun and Rebecca finished their tea first, and both stood to exit.

"Call us if there's any trouble, or when they start to wake up! We both want to meet them." Rebecca smiled, and with that, Lucy and Desmond were left alone. Several moments of silence followed.

Desmond noticed that Lucy had barely touched her tea, only held it in her hand to keep her fingers warm.

"Hey… Lucy." Lucy raised her gray eyes to meet his. "Are you alright?" She nodded dazedly, not really hearing what he had asked. Her eyes drifted off into nothingness for a moment, then:

"So…who is Alex?" As if on command, Lucy's mind snapped back from wherever it had wandered. She stared hard as Desmond for a moment, deciding on how to answer his question.

"… He's no one you should be concerned about." Desmond rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair.

"Well obviously he's someone. C'mon, what are you so afraid of telling me?" Lucy didn't look up or acknowledge his question. "Was he someone you liked who left you? 'Cause that's what it seems like to me." Again, Lucy refused to respond. However, Desmond could see her fingers tighten ever so slightly around the cup of tea. "Heh, he must've been absolutely insane to have left you—you're smart and you have connections."

Lucy jumped up, slamming her hands on the table and nearly knocking her tea over. She looked as though she had something to say, but stopped herself and instead lowered her head. Her hands curled into fists and without another word she turned and left.

_Well... wasn't expecting that._ Desmond thought to himself. Everyone had been getting on each other's nerves recently—the lack of sleep, constant worry of the templars getting their dirty hands on a piece of Eden, and the stress of the depleting numbers of assassins had ensured that all nerves were at their end. Not to mention the possibility of a templar discovery and invasion on their hideout. _I guess I took it too far… I was only trying to cheer her up with some joking, though…_

The loud slam of a door told Desmond Lucy had now locked herself in her room. Feeling slightly guilty, Desmond wondered who exactly Alex was. He probably didn't have a right to know… but his curiosity had gotten the better of him. And her reaction to his questions only raised his interest. He cast a glance over at his ancestors' bodies. What was she hiding?

Lucy stalked off into her room, slamming the door behind her. Her frustration with Desmond building with every second, she paced the room, rubbing her head furiously.

It was then that the tears came, the wave of sadness crashing over her. She sat on the bed trying to stifle her sobs, her palms pressed firmly against her forehead. The memories were flooding back; oh god no, not the memories.

The glinting steel, the _blood_. Lucy could feel her entire body shaking as she remembered. The blood. That's what remained so fresh in her mind. It was everywhere, spilling and making a sickening patter as it dripped to the cold floors of Abstergo's lab. And she could do nothing. She stood helpless, sobbing. He was crawling around, furiously scribbling symbols and codes in his own blood. And she stood behind the glass, unable to do anything; screaming behind the door and watching as his final spiral unfolded. All she could think about was how it was all her fault. She had done this. She had hurt him so deeply. His eyes met hers as she cried for help—the panic and confusion clouding any recognition of his former self….

…And then she could remember the warmth leaving his body, the life leaving his eyes. His final words, his shaking hand reaching to her cheek, leaving a streak of red to mix with her tears. Blood soaking through her clothes and seeping through her hands as she held the heavy body in her arms-

Her thoughts were interrupted by a light knock on the door. "Lucy?" Rebecca's voice was strong through the wood of the door. "You alright in there?" Lucy bit her lip and tried to steady her wavering voice.

"Y-yeah. I'm fine." There was a slight pause on the other side, then a twist of the door knob.

"Lucy, please unlock the door. What did Desmond say to you? Was it about-" Lucy wiped her eyes and called out, interrupting her mid-sentence. "Don't say it! Please… don't…..It's nothing, please just don't say it. I'm just stressed, and I don't need any more of Desmond's bloody smart-ass comments."

For a moment, there was silence. Then, heavy footsteps quickly approaching the door outside. Lucy stood up as Desmond's panicked voice interrupted the silence. "Rebecca, come here! No time to explain!" Then, two sets of footsteps rushed off down the hallway, fading quickly. Alarmed, Lucy strode over and unlocked the door. She stepped out into the hallway and glanced back into her room. Thinking twice, she ran back to her bed and pulled a gun from underneath. It was just her little safety blanket. Being an assassin required a little more than just intelligence sometimes. A scream and the breaking of glass made her jump.

Quickly, she scrambled to her feet and jogged out of her room again heading for the main room. As she neared the open doorway, she sidled against the wall, her gun pointed towards the ceiling. Carefully, she inched to the edge. There were voices inside.

"P-please! Per favore! Stop! We're not trying to hurt you!" It was Rebecca. As she listened, she could here mumbling. It was a male's voice, but it wasn't Shaun or Desmond. In fact, it wasn't even English.

Inhaling deeply, Lucy jumped out with her gun raised. She faltered as she saw what was going on. On the first animator surface, a hooded form lay unmoving. The second, however, was empty. Instead, the man was standing, a sharp blade glinting dangerously close to Desmond's throat. He had grabbed Desmond's arms and now had him in an inescapable grip. The man jumped as Lucy popped out, gun poised to shoot. He murmured something in a foreign language and dragged a struggling Desmond farther away from Shaun and Rebecca. Rebecca turned to Lucy and shouted for her to drop the gun, which Lucy did quickly.

She laid the pistol on the ground, raising her hands to signify surrender to the man standing across the room. She turned her head briefly as she heard Rebecca's strained voice. "What do you think you're _doing,_ jumping in here and waving a pistol around like a maniac? And where did you even get the fucking pistol? The last time I checked, assassins used stealth." Lucy shot Rebecca an irritated glance, but let I go quickly—it was no time to be fooling around. "Fill me in," Lucy said shortly, watching the man whose eyes now darted between Rebecca and Lucy. Rebecca spoke quickly, keeping her eyes on Desmond and his captor the entire time. "Well, Ezio woke up a little prematurely. And guess what I forgot to install?" Lucy looked at her. She couldn't have. "Yep," Rebecca said sarcastically, "I forgot the god-damned English language drivers. So though he may be speaking in modern language, it'll be modern Italian. Not much help. He doesn't know what's going on; for all he knows, we could be Templars kidnapping him to torture him. Soooo, he did the first thing that came to mind—he took a hostage."

By this time, Ezio had fruitlessly begun to shout Italian orders at them. Desmond gulped as the cold steel touched his neck. "Uhh… guys? Can you please do _something?_" "_Stai zitto!"_ Ezio spat into Desmond's ear, before continuing on with a longer spiel of Italian words. It was Shaun's turn to speak. "Well obviously, standing around like a bunch of morons isn't getting us anywhere, so I'm going to try something else." He stepped closer to Ezio and Desmond, watching Ezio's muscles tense as he did so.

"DO-YOU-SPEAK-ENGLISH?" Shaun tried, half mocking the assassin, half actually trying to help. Ezio stared at him for a moment, puzzled but still aggressive. "Italiano!" Shaun shook his head, and tried again. "Any English at all? You're a bloody assassin after all, you should know more than one language. Desmond, I can see where you get your idiocy. You come from a line of morons." Desmond glared at Shaun, "Not helping much, dick." Shaun threw his hands up in frustration. "I'm just saying, it would help if your ancestor wasn't a sex-driven imbecile. And it would just be fantastic if he knew ENGLISH."

"I know little English." All heads turned as a new voice entered the conversation. Altair stood nonchalantly in the corner, apparently awake and observing for a while now. Shaun shook his head in disbelief. "Maybe your bloodline isn't completely composed of idiots." He stepped towards Altair, trying to figure out how to act next. As he did so, a disbelieving whisper echoed in the room. "_Altair?"_ Altair turned to see Ezio, staring at him as though he were looking at a ghost. Altair asked him something in Arabic, but stopped when he realized that Ezio did not understand. He turned his attention back to Shaun. "What is this? Who are you?" Shaun nodded at Rebecca, who took over from there. "Altair. I need your help. Do you understand?" Altair nodded slowly and followed Rebecca with his eyes as she walked over to one of the Animators. "I can help your English," she continued. "But you have to use this." Altair watched through slit eyes as she raised an IV-looking wire. Altair shook his head. "Templar?" He asked, examining the other people in the room, his eyes resting on Ezio the longest. "No," Rebecca replied, pulling up one of her pants legs to reveal a tattoo of the Assassin's symbol on her ankle. "Assassin."

Ezio wavered as he saw this, and watched Altair nod in understanding. Rebecca walked over to Altair cautiously, slowly taking Altair's arm and pushing the sleeve back to reveal flesh. "It'll hurt a little," She said, giving him a worried look. Altair nodded in understanding, wincing as Rebecca fed the wire into his body. "Ok. Wait." Rebecca instructed, walking over to the computer he was now hooked into. Lucy and Shaun stood idly in the background, hoping with all their might that this would work. "Downloading in 3….2….1…" Rebecca clicked her mouse, and within a second Altair was shaking his head as new information flew into it. A few moments passed and Altair recovered, blinking away the blurriness in his eyes. "What the hell was that?"

Rebecca nearly jumped for joy. "Yes! It worked, it really worked!" Altair looked at her oddly, then opened his mouth as she removed the wire. "What sorcery is this? How do you now Arabic so fluently?" Rebecca beamed as he asked this question. "Actually, you're speaking your language and we're speaking ours. I just bridged the gap. But I'll explain more later. I'd like you to talk to our friend Ezio over there. He's an assassin, too. And just as confused as you are. Only thing is, is that he can't speak English, so he has no idea who we are or anything. He only speaks Italian." Altair shook his head. "I'm sorry, I don't speak Italian." Rebecca smiled and waved a finger at him. "Oh, but you do now. Go ahead, try talking to him."

Altair looked over in Ezio's direction, his golden eyes flashing with discomfort when he saw the hostage. The two looked similar, as though they could be father and son. And yet, there was a huge distance between the two. A sort of difference and distance Altair had never seen before. He stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Ezio, listen to me." Ezio's eyes widened as Altair spoke. Are you really Altair? How can you speak Italian? Where are we?" Altair raised his hands to stop his questioning.

"I can't really answer the last two, but yes, I am Altair. But before I tell you anything else, you have to let him go. All of us here are assassins, even him." Altair motioned to Desmond, who watched wide-eyed and nervous as the two assassins conversed in a foreign language. Ezio faltered for a moment, "How do I know it's really you?" Altair thought for a moment, then replied. "Nothing is true, everything is permitted. This is the one belief of the assassins." Ezio hesitated again, but released Desmond, who staggered away holding his throat.

"Good." Altair said calmly. "Now, go over to her," he pointed at Rebecca as he spoke. "She will make communication possible for all of us, and then she will explain everything." Ezio sheathed his hidden blade with a flex of his hand and walked over to Rebecca. As he came over, Rebecca grabbed the other wire. She repeated what she had done with Ezio, and moments later Ezio was shaking the blurriness away from his eyes. "What..?" Rebecca smiled as she took the wire out.

"Alright. Now we're all on the same page. So, might I start by saying welcome to 2012." She shoved Desmond in front of her. "And meet Desmond. He's going to be your leader. Oh, and by the way, he's the last of your bloodlines."


	5. Chapter 5

There was a long moment of silence as the two older assassins looked blankly at Desmond, then at each other. Ezio was the first to speak.

"We're….._related?_ I mean, I knew Uncle Mario said that Altair was a great assassin, but…. He's my bloodline? And him? Desmond, you said? Wait. Desmond. _Desmond?_ As in the Desmond Minerva spoke to? But wait… how—who—What?" Ezio stammered, staring with wide eyes at Desmond.

Altair remained silent, carefully examining the other two. Desmond had now turned a bright pink and shifted uncomfortably as his great, great grandfather looked at him intently, studying him as a scientist studies a subject. Altair met Desmond's eyes with a steady gaze, as though he was reading into the novice assassin's soul. "You are my blood… my son. Both of you are my sons." He said calmly, golden eyes sliding to Ezio's arm. "And that-" he reached for Ezio's arm and examined the hidden blade. "That is my design." He turned back to Desmond. "You have one as well, do you not?" Desmond nodded and Ezio remained stunned. Altair bowed his head in respect. "Though you are supposed to give respect to your elders, I feel that I owe both of you more respect than you owe me. Now… Desmond. Please, explain to us why we're here—how we've cheated death long enough to see so many generations in one room."

Desmond took a moment to compose himself, then rubbed his head. "Well… uh…. You know what DNA is, right?" Altair shook his head and Ezio continued his blank stare. Shaun now stepped up, smacking Desmond in the back of the head as he stood beside him.

"Did you really just ask that, Desmond? You do realize how stupid you are, right?" Desmond narrowed his eyes and glared at Shaun, rubbing his head where the historian had hit him. "What your moron of a descendent is _trying_ to say, you see, is that in your blood you have this stuff called DNA." Shaun continued, ignoring Desmond as he called him a twat. "We won't go into detail, but it's in your blood and it carries the memories of both you and your ancestors. We've used this machine here-" Shaun motioned towards the Animus. "To recover your memories and…. bring you back, in a sense." It was Ezio's turn to speak.

"So… this is how Minerva got her message to you. You got my memories from this…. device, and so she spoke through me to get to you. I hope what she said made sense to you, Desmond." Desmond nodded.

"Yeah, I know what I need to do…. But we'll discuss that later. We need to explain everything else to you first." Desmond pointed at his three companions. "We all need to get you two on the same page as us."

Altair, meanwhile, looked curiously at the Animus, running his fingers along the smooth parts of the machine. "Is this run by sorcery?" He said, marveling at the glowing blue light around the curves of the chair.

Rebecca smiled. "Nah," She said, walking over to her baby. "It's run by electricity. Won't be invented until several hundred years after your lifetime… Think of it as…. Captured lightening." Altair cocked his head slightly to the side. His golden eyes flashed to her, then to Shaun. Rebecca blushed as she realized they hadn't introduced themselves.

"Heh…" She laughed nervously, "Sorry, we forgot introductions. It's just so amazing to meet you in person. I mean…. It's not very often that this happens….. Anyway, my name is Rebecca—Rebecca Crane. And this is Shaun Hastings." She put an arm around Shaun's waist as she introduced him, then turned to point at Lucy. "And this is my best friend, Lucy Stillman, who pretty much runs this whole show and keeps us together, even in the roughest of times." Lucy, who was picking up her gun and slipping it into her belt, smiled at the two hooded assassins and stepped over to the group.

"Sorry, Ezio, for raising my gun at you…. you did really shake us all up, though." Ezio nodded, still silent, but calmer.

"What… what is that?" Ezio managed, pointing at the pistol partly hidden in Lucy's belt. She looked down at the gun and shifted nervously.

"It's something like…. What Leonardo made for you… a larger version of what he," she turned to Altair and nodded her head at him, "designed in his codex." Altair nodded and Ezio blinked in surprise.

"You are quite a dangerous lady," He said, smiling smugly. He stepped toward her and reached his hand to her face, gently running his hand down her cheek. "My type of lady," He said, staring intently at her, his eyes half-lidded. Blushing, Lucy pushed his hand away and laughed nervously as she caught Desmond's eye.

"Believe me, I'm not your type. And you're certainly not mine." Ezio laughed, and Desmond glared at him. For some reason, seeing Ezio with Lucy just made him… angry. Rebecca covered a smile as she saw Desmond's reaction, and Shaun rubbed his head in embarrassment.

"I told you, Desmond's line is full of idiots." He whispered quietly into Rebecca's ear, and she giggled.

"You know… you are quite beautiful. The finest Madonna I've ever met." Ezio grabbed Lucy's shoulders and leaned in for a kiss as she squirmed against his powerful grasp. Desmond felt fury build up inside of him, his body tensing to fight….

A loud WHACK startled everyone in the room, and before he knew what was happening, Ezio was on the ground, holding his head in agony. Above him, his relative stood looking down at him, anger and disgust prevalent in his expression. Ezio was hoisted up by two powerful arms and held by the collar of his tunic.

"The lady said no, ahmaq, you _listen_ to her." Altair glared into Ezio's eyes, his eyes narrowed with anger and frustration. "No son of mine will disrespect a woman." Lucy, blushing but recovered, ran over to the two assassins and tried to separate them.

"It's really alright, Altair. I appreciate the effort, I really do… but I can handle myself pretty well." Altair seemed to loosen his grip as Lucy said this, but he shot an irritated look at Ezio as a conceited smile spread across his lips.

"Oh, Madonna, I knew you couldn't resist. Just wait until I show you-" Ezio was cut short as Altair's fist landed squarely on his nose, sending him skidding across the ground. Altair stood tall, unconsciously positioning himself between Ezio and Lucy. Ezio sat up and rubbed his nose, wiping blood away from his upper lip.

"Merda," he said, glaring up at Altair. "I was only joking."

"That may be true, _novice,_ but I am serious. If you touch her again, I _will_ kill you. Blood or not, I have no qualms destroying a man who has no respect for his women counterparts."

Rebecca now stepped in, and stood between Ezio and Altair. "Look, I know you two don't see eye-to-eye, and I understand that there's a lot of excitement running through us all, but why don't we just sit down and figure everything out peacefully. I don't mean to be in a rush, but the Templars are gaining on us and… well, I don't know how much time we have, but we don't have much. We have enough problems as it is, so let's settle things like true assassins and respect one another as brothers and sisters. How does that sound?" She looked from Altair to Ezio, and back again. "We will explain everything to you, just please stop fighting. We don't need any more quarrels to fight."

Altair walked over to Ezio and begrudgingly offered a hand up. Ezio took it reluctantly, meeting Altair's eyes with the expression of an angry and guilty child. He looked at Lucy again and winked mischievously, smiling as she averted her eyes.

"Don't make me punch you again, _brat._" Ezio's smile faded as he met Altair's resentful gaze.

"Lighten up, gramps." Ezio muttered to Altair, who glared knives at him. Rebecca led them to the stairs, heading towards the main hall of the manor.

Desmond slipped over to Lucy and asked if she was alright. She waved it off and said he worried too much, before letting her eyes fall to the ground.

"Hey," Desmond said, looking at Lucy's bowed head. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I had no right to make fun of Alex, whoever he was. I didn't think you'd take it so seriously. I was just trying to lighten the mood." Lucy nodded, keeping her head bowed.

"I know, Desmond. But for the sake of my sanity…. Don't mention it again." Desmond nodded in understanding, curiosity and guilt pricking him like needles. But as he put a hand on her shoulder, he thought he saw tears glaze her eyes. She turned her head too quickly for him to tell, and rubbed her eyes. "I'm just really tired."

Altair, the last one in the group, glanced back at the room they were leaving. His eyes landed on a statue of himself and he narrowed his eyes in thought, but said nothing. It was, he decided, better to let knowledge come to him, rather than him seek out the knowledge.

"Alright," Shaun said, standing at the head of the meeting table. "Ezio, Altair, by the time you leave this table tonight, you will be completely caught up with the rest of the group." He leaned over the table, putting his hands on the flat surface and looking at the surrounding assassins. "To begin the meeting tonight, I will start with an update on the teams. It seems that Denver…. Has gone dark." He paused a minute as he let the news sink into the group before continuing. "We're…" He cleared his throat, "We're hoping they've gone dark to avoid detection. But we won't know until their scheduled meeting with the higher-ups." He fixed his glasses nervously, sensing the anxiety from Rebecca and Lucy. "We can only hope the best for them right now." He stole a quick glance at Lucy, then exchanged a worried look with Rebecca. "But that news aside, we have an important matter to discuss. The apple." When Shaun uttered the word apple, Ezio and Altair both looked up quickly, their eyes glued to the Brit. "After you got it, Altair, Ezio got it. And after you got it Ezio… well… you know where you put it. And we've finally found the temple where you hid it." He glanced around the table. "The only problem is, the place is crawling with Templars. And Desmond is the only assassin we have to send out into the field. So," He looked from Ezio to Altair and back again, "We brought you two back to help."

Altair nodded in acceptance. "An assassin in need is a brother in need. I would be happy to offer my services to you."

"And I will be happy to help as well," Ezio said calmly, looking at Desmond. "I'd like to know my great grandson a bit more, and I'm sure I can teach him a thing or two." Desmond nodded, half-smiling- he was still bitter about the Lucy incident. Ezio continued, "I remember hiding the apple…. The temple…"

"And I think it will be best that you lead the way, since you know Italy more than any of us here." Shaun pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, turning his head to look at Lucy and Rebecca. "And while you three are out getting the apple, we'll be here holding down the fort and helping you through it." He stood up straight, straightening out his sweater. "We'll call it a night for tonight. Rebecca, Lucy, Desmond… you three get some sleep. I'm going to take Ezio and Altair around and answer all their questions. We've got a lot of work ahead of us, and it's best if we all get as much sleep as we can to prepare."

Lucy and Rebecca stood, while Desmond kicked his chair back and prepared to trudge up to his room. He yawned and stretched his arms up to the ceiling. "Alright, Shaun. But you should get some sleep, too." He followed Rebecca and Lucy up the stairs, leaving Shaun to explain the technology that would be used, and explaining to Altair what the mansion was. Rebecca departed from the two and headed to her room, leaving the door opened a crack as she disappeared into the darkness. Desmond smiled softly at Lucy as she stopped in front of her room and turned to say goodnight to him.

"Lucy," He started, rubbing the back of his head nervously.

"Desmond, don't. I told you not to worry about it. Just… just take care of yourself, ok? I think getting you out of the Animus was the best decision we've made in a while. And if you have any ore symptoms… don't keep them to yourself." Desmond nodded and Lucy gave him a hug. "You've got a lot going for you, Desmond. As an assassin, and as a friend. Don't forget yourself. Goodnight, Desmond." She slipped into her room and closed the door, leaving Desmond alone in the hallway.

"Night, Lucy," he murmured, before turning into his own room. He dressed and settled into his bed, lying on his back and thinking. Lucy's words echoed in his brain as he drifted off to sleep. _Don't forget yourself._ He felt a twinge of guilt as his mind wandered back to the Animus and the glyphs. _My mind is gone…Lucy… I can't wait any longer…. I'm ready to go._ What if Alex…?

Desmond shook his head and turned to his side. It couldn't be. It simply _couldn't._ But what if it was? He slowly slipped into a deep sleep.

Desmond woke in a cold sweat, trembling from fear. Fear of what, however, he couldn't tell. All around him, whispers whirled through the room. Scared and confused, he tried to move, but found that his body was paralyzed. He managed to turn his head to look at the bed he was laying on, and found that he was no longer in Monteriggioni. He was laying on a medical slab, strapped to the table. Panic surging through him, he fought against the restraints to no avail. As he struggled for freedom, a glowing white figure stood above him. The figure's face was covered by a surgical mask, his eyes hidden by goggles.

"Let me go!" Desmond pleaded, writhing in the restraints. "Please, let me go!" A low chuckle came from behind the mask, and the figure lifted a large scalpel.

"Not until you tell us where your people hid the apple, assassin." The figure lifted the knife and plunged it deep into Desmond's chest, ignoring the assassin as he screamed in pain. Desmond thrashed as the templar surgeon continued slowly, making large incisions in random parts of his body, torturing him for information.

"I don't know!" Desmond begged. "Please… let me go…" Desmond felt the cold steel of the knife against his throat and squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for death. But nothing happened. He opened his eye to see Lucy standing above him in his dark room.

"Desmond…" She reached to touch him, and he flinched. She quickly withdrew her hand as he struggled to sit up and grasped at his invisible wounds. He tried to stand, but his shaking knees gave out and he fell onto the ground. He coughed, spitting up blood onto the floor.

Lucy was beside Desmond now, shouting for Rebecca and Shaun. She looked at the blood trickling out of Desmond's mouth and trembled, remembering the horrid memories she tried so hard to forget. He shuddered and fell forward into her. Terrified, she raised his limp body to hers.

It was happening all over again…. And there was nothing she could do.


	6. Chapter 6

BE WARNED: From here on out, there will be some Brotherhood spoilers thrown into the mix. Some spoilers will be big, and some will be small. But keep in mind—I'm not going to make the spoilers obvious, they're just going to… happen in the story. It's up to you whether you continue reading if you haven't beaten Brotherhood yet, but treat this as a warning.

Also, I will be ending this story on the same note as Brotherhood—with different circumstances. (Don't worry, you'll have plenty of time to beat Brotherhood before I finish the story.) This way, if I manage to finish this story before AC3 comes out, I could possibly continue the story off of the events in AC3.

It was happening all over again, yet everything was different. The bleeding effect was taking its toll on Desmond, but _physically, _more so than mentally.

Lucy sat beside Desmond's bed, watching him writhe uncomfortably in his sleep. He was delusional—sometimes he would wake up and yell at hallucinations, and other times he'd wake suddenly and stare at Lucy before losing consciousness and drifting off into a restless sleep again. His body burned with fever, and he trembled as he thrashed around in his sheets.

Lucy had spent the last four days by his side, leaving only when Rebecca could relieve her. She had slept less than a total of six hours since he had collapsed that night, and the lack of rest was beginning to affect her emotionally. Even with Rebecca's desperate pleas for her to sleep, she couldn't bring herself to leave Desmond's side for more than two hours at a time. She was beginning to obsess: she couldn't bear the thought of leaving him for too long. When she left Subject 16 when he was sick, she came back to see something she would never forget—

She shivered as she thought about what she had just done. She had thought of him as "Subject 16." Her fears were coming true—she was becoming cold-hearted and callous; she was becoming one of _them. _Lucy shook the thought away. It was important that she focused on what was at hand. She had seen the insanity of the bleeding effect and didn't want to see it in Desmond, too. She had done this to him, and she blamed herself for all the pain he was going through. It was her duty to help him through this.

Rebecca watched her friend with worry and sorrow. She wanted to reach out and help Lucy, and she was doing all she could to do so. But even so, Rebecca knew that she was barely reaching her friend. Lucy was almost as lost as Desmond, and Rebecca realized it was because when she looked at Desmond, Lucy didn't see him. She saw the shadows of her past—the countless Abstergo patients she had watched spiral into insanity before dying horrible deaths before her. And of course, the subject right before Desmond had left his mark. Lucy would never be able to forget what she had seen, and Rebecca knew there was little she could do to help that. She just had to be there for Lucy—and for Desmond.

While the other two took shifts watching over Desmond, Shaun had been giving the two older assassins lessons and crash courses in everything they needed to know. He had given both of them small pistols and taught them how to use them. "Only in the case of an emergency," He explained. "We don't want people reacting to gunshots and putting us in any more danger than we're already in." He even took them out and showed them cars, trains, and buses, so that they wouldn't be caught off-guard if they happened across one. He even had gone out and bought each of them their own hoodies to wear out in the open so they could blend easily in crowds. In a sense, Shaun was slowly but surely easing Altair and Ezio into the current times. It was a tough job, but a historian was the best person to do it.

There was one problem, however. Altair was growing increasingly worried about Desmond's absence. He had taken a sort of fatherly role over Ezio and Desmond, and since the first night-the night Desmond had collapsed, he had been asking about his whereabouts nonstop. At first the three assassins faltered—they didn't really know what to say, but then Rebecca stepped up and explained that he wasn't feeling well.

"He has a fever, and we think it's best to let him recover on his own." She said, carefully evading any specific details. She didn't want things to get out of hand, and her gut told her that it was best if the other assassin's didn't know about Desmond's condition quite yet. "He collapsed last night," she continued. "But we're hoping that he'll be alright after a few days of rest. He's been really stressed lately, and the relaxation will do him good."

Ezio had been quick to accept the excuse, but Altair was more skeptical. "Can we not visit him?" Altair asked, after Rebecca had finished.

"I think it will be best if Lucy and I are the only ones who see him right now. He needs to be alone, and we are the only ones who have any medical reason for being with him. We'll let you all hang out again after he's better, but for now…"

Altair didn't respond. He watched Rebecca closely with slit eyes and she shifted uncomfortably under his cold stare; he seemed to be reading her body language and picking up on her uneasiness. As she tried to ignore his intent gaze, she thought about Altair and his brotherhood. She had read about people raised to kill, but it was the first time she had ever seen it with her own eyes. They were supposedly cold and unfeeling, yet loyal when it came to their brothers. They were also brilliant at catching lies and could easily recognize any emotion in others, while hiding their own flawlessly. He was skilled at it, and she realized that he must have been trained since he was a young child to be the perfect assassin.

Ezio, on the other hand, was more open and relaxed: a true renaissance man. He was socially suave and easily made up for Altair's cold air with his own welcoming attitude. When Rebecca said something, he took it to heart, believing her every word. She liked his demeanor far more than Altair's, but she understood they each had their own strengths and weaknesses. While Ezio's suave manner could persuade and influence, Altair's skill and cold countenance would be more than useful in the battlefield. Not to say that Ezio was a bad assassin, simply that Altair was better.

Shaun too had noticed the difference, and discussed it with Rebecca. They sat together at a table in the main room, keeping their voices soft as to not disturb Altair and Ezio in the next room. Shaun had made tea and had brought some to Rebecca as they chatted. He suggested that the three-hundred odd years' difference was enough to explain their manners. He even began to delve into detailed depths of each century before Rebecca quieted him with a quick kiss on the lips.

"I didn't need the historian's opinion on this. I just thought that you as a person might find it interesting." Shaun rolled his eyes then shifted his position, stealing a quick glance at the two assassins in the other room before leaning in to the table. His eyes quickly shifted to Rebecca's and he lowered his voice.

"How's Lucy? The higher-ups have been threatening to take her back to the main hideout if she doesn't improve soon..." He trailed off and took a sip of tea from his mug. His eyes searched Rebecca's as she thought of a way to respond.

"I…. Well…" She paused, trying to gather her thoughts. "I think we should tell the higher-ups that she's alright. I feel that the last thing she needs at this point is to be taken away from Desmond. If she wants to stay with him, let her. It can't hurt to have her with him—all she's doing is taking care of him while he's sick. And when he gets better, it will help her recover from some of the other trauma she's had to deal with. Knowing that she saved Desmond would, I think, make her feel less guilty about… well, about _him_."

"And what happens when Desmond doesn't get better?" He said, looking directly into Rebecca's eyes.

"Shaun…."

"We can't rule it out, Rebecca. As much as none of us want to think about it, we have to ready ourselves for the worst." He took another sip of his tea. Rebecca opened her mouth to say something, but quickly closed it as Ezio stepped into the room.

"Pardon me for interrupting," he said, bowing his head slightly. "Is this a bad time?" Shaun, facing away from the assassin and towards Rebecca, rolled his eyes. Rebecca ignored him and smiled at Ezio.

"Not at all, Ezio. Is everything alright?" She peered out the doorway to see Altair browsing the shelves of the bookcase, then looked back at Ezio.

"No, I was just wondering…. Do you know who your ancestors are?" She cocked an eyebrow and smiled, knowing what would come next.

"If you mean for your time period, yes." Ezio opened his mouth to speak, but Rebecca cut him off. "And before you ask, yes you knew her." Ezio's eyes widened and he smiled broadly.

"Of course! I knew you looked familiar! Merda, I saw it in you, but I just couldn't place it! And when I was talking to Altair, I realized! You're Rosa's descendent, am I right?" Rebecca laughed and kicked back, reveling in the look on Shaun's face.

"R-Rosa?" Shaun stuttered, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. "You can't be serious! And you never thought to mention it?"

"You never asked," Rebecca laughed. "That and it isn't really that important. She helped the assassin order, but she certainly wasn't a huge player." She smiled as Shaun composed himself and the questions ensued.

Shaun bombarded her with question after question—how long had she known? What did Rosa do after meeting Ezio? Had she had any run-ins with other pieces of Eden? Did she and Ezio meet each other again?

Ezio, half listening, seemed to be distracted by something. He strained his ears to hear over Shaun and Rebecca. He could have sworn he heard something. The room stopped dead as Rebecca and Shaun were interrupted by loud yelling from the upstairs. Within an instant, Shaun had stood up and Rebecca had flown out the door and up the stairs.

As Rebecca sprinted towards the room, she prayed that it wasn't too late; that Desmond wasn't gone.

Lucy's eyes were heavy with exhaustion, and she fought to keep them open. She could feel her body screaming for sleep and her head beginning to nod. She kept her eyes trained on Desmond's moving form. His fever had broken and he had been sleeping fairly calmly for the past hour, but Lucy still couldn't bring herself to leave. She had to make sure she was there for when he woke up; someone had to be there to help him sort through reality and fantasy…. And she was the only one who had done it before.

Desmond shifted and muttered something in his sleep, catching Lucy's attention.

"Lucy… I'm sorry….." Lucy watched him move slowly under the blankets. "Lucy…. It hurts. Oh god, it hurts…." He twisted in pain as Lucy pressed her hand to his forehead. His fever wasn't back, but it seemed as though the hallucinations were back—

Desmond startled awake, nearly jumping out of bed. His fear-filled eyes met Lucy's and for a moment, Lucy thought he might lapse into unconsciousness again. But this time his eyes darted around the room, his body trembling.

"How…. How did I get back here…. I—Lucy…. Lucy, what happened…?" Lucy, fully awake now, jumped out of her seat and wrapped her arms around his shaking body.

"Oh god, Desmond. Thank god you're awake…" His warm body pressed against hers, she could feel hot tears building in her eyes. He sat limply, encased in her arms, breathing heavily.

"I don't understand….. the war…. We were pushed out by the war, our base destroyed…. And then Malik and I fought beside each other…. I was wounded, and you pulled me out and into Florence where Caterina was waiting… I….I…." He trailed off as Lucy tightened her embrace.

"Desmond… listen to yourself. You've been hallucinating…. You haven't left this bed for almost five days. Just… calm down."

"No…. Lucy, the Templars killed him…. They killed everyone. We have to escape Monteriggioni before they kill us. The battle of Gettysburg is here!" Desmond was panicking now, and he fought against Lucy as he struggled to get out of bed. His voice raised as he broke free from Lucy and staggered around the room. "Lucy, they're coming…. They're coming!" He clasped his head and screamed out in pain. He fell against a wall, breathing heavily. "We…we have to get out…" His voice faded as he slid to the ground. His eyes fixed on nothingness and Lucy rushed to his side.

"Desmond…." He didn't react. "Desmond. Look at me, please." His eyes slid to the direction of her voice, but he didn't seem to see her.

"Lucy…. Lucy…. I'm everywhere and nowhere at once. Lucy… where am I?" Tears were sliding down her cheeks as she watched Desmond curl into his own body. She knelt before him and held his head between her hands. She placed her forehead against his and spoke to him softly.

"Desmond, I'm not going to let you do this to yourself. You're living in the year twenty-twelve. You are Desmond Miles. I'm not letting you slip away from me."

Rebecca burst in, startling Lucy. Desmond continued to stare into nothingness as Rebecca ran to his side, tears brimming in her eyes. She looked at Lucy, then back at Desmond.

"Desmond…?" He shifted and looked at her with glazed eyes.

"Rosa…. What are you doing here?" His body shook as he coughed violently into his hand. Too weak to hold his hand up, he let it drop to the ground. Rebecca's eyes widened as she saw blood oozing from his nose. It dripped to the ground with a sickening patter, but he didn't seem to notice. "Rosa… what's happening?" Rebecca and Lucy exchanged glances before looking back at Desmond.

"Desmond… who am I?" Desmond looked at Rebecca and blinked.

"Rebecca? What's going on…?" He reached to his nose as he felt something wet and sticky trickle down his chin. He looked at Rebecca then Lucy with concern in his eyes as he saw the blood smeared on his hand. "What happened?" He froze when he saw the tears in their eyes and tried to stagger to his feet. "Did the Templars find us? Is someone hurt—" He felt his stomach drop as he realized Shaun wasn't in the room. "Where's Shaun? Is he alright?"

Lucy put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. "Desmond…. Are you really back?"

"Am I…. back? Back…. From what?"

She wrapped her arms around him, fighting tears of relief. "You scared me, Desmond. I… I thought…." She tightened her grasp as she pushed the fear out of her mind. He was back for now, and that was all that mattered.

Desmond hesitantly put his arms around Lucy in reciprocation. He didn't know what had happened, but with Lucy this upset, he knew it couldn't have been good. A headache was beating against his brain, scrambling his thoughts, but he paid no mind to it. With Lucy there, he felt better.

As the two hugged, Rebecca watched Desmond closely. He had been so far gone, so deep in the bleeding effect. She didn't want to think about it, but she was beginning to wonder… what if Shaun was right? What would happen…. When Desmond didn't wake up from his hallucinations? When he didn't recover from the side effects? What would they do when he followed the path to insanity?


End file.
